


The House on Ember Island (Dubious Consent)

by karikara



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Canon Bisexual Character, Cheating, Drinking, Dubious Consent, F/F, F/M, Futanari, Halloween, Identity Porn, M/M, No Lesbians Die, Partying, Porn with Feelings, Restraints, Weredick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:29:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27102733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karikara/pseuds/karikara
Summary: Ember Island reveals the real you. In this Halloween, college AU themed fic, Asami is forced to examine her feelings when chilling happenings at a mansion house party on Ember Island force her to confront the truth about herself and her relationships with Mako and Korra. Inspired in part by The Haunting of Bly Manor, which you should all watch it's so flipping good.
Relationships: Korra/Asami Sato, Mako/Asami Sato
Comments: 18
Kudos: 51





	1. 12:00 Noon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mainly_Bridget](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mainly_Bridget/gifts).



> This is in honor of my friend Bridget who gave me the most challenging list of constraints for a fic that I've ever written which included a character gender-shifting, which was a delight to try and figure out. She asked for a drabble and I'm giving her a four-course meal because I'm pathologically unable to write a simple story. 
> 
> It's also an homage to The Haunting of Bly Manor, which is so good y'all it broke my heart. Watch it on Netflix. Don't expect it to be jump scare spooky, but it is deeply haunting and touching. Mike Flannagan and his writers are geniuses and I hate/love them for it.
> 
> This is the first time I've written anything that's female/female so hopefully it's alright and not offensive aaaah! Enjoy! Send me all your comments. Then go read Bridget's wonderful fics. XOXOXO

_"Like waves washing away the footprints on the sand, Ember Island gives everyone a clean slate. Ember Island reveals the true you."_

— Lo and Li to Azula, Mai, Ty Lee, and Zuko

12:00 Noon

The white facade of the empty mansion stands stark against the dark rock, a horizontal gash on the cliff face that overlooks the sea. The house huddles. The house slouches. It is the shoulders of a headless giant trying to conceal its mass and menace to any onlooker on the sandy beach below. Long hours in unrelenting sunlight imbue the house with heat, not a comforting heat. It's the heat of the oven. The heat of the forge. The heat that burns. That breaks down. Expands. Rearranges. The heat that transforms.

The house is still and choked with dust. It's sat empty for some time, perhaps all time. The thin white curtains are drawn fast. But the relentless sunlight of noontime cuts through them and fills the westward-facing rooms with their antique lacquered furniture with a pitiless brilliance -- an incandescence that sheds no shadow, that would give no relief to the eye of the visitor, if there were any. It's a light that boils away darkness. That allows nothing to hide. 

In the grand hall with its ancient beams, the ribbed, ridged gullet that waits wide to greet its visitors, there is a clock. Tall, black, old -- the kind with chains meant to be wound every day by the hands of servants to function. In the parched and heaving silence of the room, the roar of the waves outside subsides into an interminable buzz. The face of the clock is black. The hands black. Something inside begins to spin, motivated by no human movement. Gears, clouded with disuse, whir. Tiny metal teeth knit and unknit, gnashing the silence between them.

Tick.


	2. 7:15 PM

7:15 PM

"Asami, how have you never had smores before? Didn't Papa Sato take you camping when you were a kid?"

Korra's blue eyes flash as she grins at me. We're standing in the store at a petrol station just outside of Republic City, and I can't stop looking at her eyes. It seems to happen to me all the time. Korra has the kind of blue eyes I wanted badly when I was a little girl. There's a part of me that hates her for it. The tan of her sun-kissed skin sets them off perfectly -- making them bluer still, that stark crazy blue of a wolf or a husky. A childish wish seizes me. I want to dress her up like a doll. How would she look in green? I shrug off the silly impulse and smile back as she shoves a bag of marshmallows into my chest.

"Ha yeah ... What can I say about Papa Sato?" I say as I accept the bag from her hands. "My Dad was always too busy running the company to take me camping I guess."

He was after mom died, anyway.

"Well, I'm gonna fix that tonight," she says, her tone confident. It's the same tone she uses on the bending court with Mako and Bolin. Her Mr. Macho tone, the one that says, 'Just watch me, I'm gonna win it'. I watch her grab a box of graham crackers from the shelf. "I'll make a fire on the beach and I'll show you how to roast them perfectly."

"Hmmm ... " I chuckle at her conviction. "It's a deal then."

We stroll together over to where Bolin is standing in front of the wrack of candy, eyes wide. He's never looked more at home, big goofy kid that he is.

"Hey guys! We're doing smores right? Have ya tried smores with the peanut butter cups? OK, we must have these," he says, grabbing up three packages at once. "And the coconut patties! Oh, and the little brown square ones with the crunchy bits! Those are Opal's favorites." Hands full, Bolin shifts the candy into the crook of his arm, a makeshift shelf as he piles on more and more.

I cut my eyes to Korra. She's frowning. She just got payed from her new college internship with Verrick Industries and she promised to treat us to snacks but Bolin in his enthusiasm is, of course, going overboard. It makes me want to kick him in the shin. Korra's eyes meet mine and a blush tinges her skin, she looks down.

I elbow her in the ribs and she looks back at me. I glance at Bolin and roll my eyes as I rock up on my tiptoes to whisper in her ear. "Hey, I'll get the chocolate, OK? He can't help himself when he gets like this. Besides, it's cute, right?"

Korra gives me a half-smile and nods. I smile back at her, hoping she doesn't feel ashamed that she can't afford to cover Bolin's sugar splurge. Daddy Sato and his bank account to the rescue again.

There's a clock above the register. I read the time.

"Guys -- let's pay up. Mako's shift is over at the plant and we've got two hours to drive before we make it to the mansion. If Tahno and his crew beat us and snag all the nicest rooms I'm gonna be pissed."

"Ha, that'll never happen the way you drive." Korra shoots back.

I smirk. She's right.

Tick.


	3. 9:36 PM

9:36 pm

The seven-mile bridge to Ember Island hums under the wheels of my convertible. The wind whips through my hair as I lean on the accelerator. These are the types of drives I live for: long ones, the road winding its supple curves in front of me as I eat up the pavement beneath my wheels, a speed demon that can't be sated.

Mako is sitting shotgun beside me now. Bolin and Korra are in the cramped back seat. The coupe was made for speed, not capacity and I can feel Korra's knees against my seat back as she shifts. I feel guilty that I don't have a better car to transport all of us in. Mako is complaining about Tahno. Again.

"Bolin, I can't believe you convinced us to do this -- after the shady shit that Wolfbats pulled in the league finals."

"Come on, Mako," Bolin pleads. "Live a little! It's not every year Halloween falls on a weekend AND you get invited to rager at an old spooky mansion." Bolin wiggles his fingers and draws out the word spooky theatrically and I smirk.

"Huh. Opal and her friends are going to be there. That's the real reason we're going, right?"

"Perhaps," Bolin drawls, tenting his fingers in front of his chin as he pouts, trying and failing to look innocent.

"Ugh. Yeah, well, if I have to hang around that jerk just because you're horny, Tahno better steer clear of me. That's all I gotta say. Or else."

I give off a long slow sigh. Boys. Korra is quiet in the back seat. She's been quiet ever since we picked up Mako. She usually chimes in to tamp down his tirades. Maybe it's because he and I are sitting together in the front seat. Her feelings for Mako are no mystery to anyone. Guilt lances through me. It can't feel good to see us both together. Mako and I have been officially dating for seven weeks. It started while she was away for the summer studying in Zaofu.

I glance back at her in the rearview and startle when I notice that Korra's staring straight at me, those bright crazy wolf eyes of hers unblinking. She's obviously zoned out. A defense against Mako's endless effusion about his hate for the Wolfbats I'm sure. Locking eyes with her again I give her a long slow wink. She blinks rapidly as if coming awake and the lines around her eyes crinkle in a smile.

Perhaps apologetic for his long-winded bitching about Tahno and his teammates, I feel Mako's hand slide onto my thigh and squeeze. I glance at him and shake my head. Not in front of Korra. I've told him this a million times but he never seems to get it. Can't seem to respect this boundary. It's like he doesn't care about our friend's feelings. His constant push for PDAs in front of her is selfish and it's a part of him I don't like. Korra's my friend and I don't want to hurt her.

I grab his hand smoothly and place it on the hand brake between us. Looking at him I frown and shake my head slightly and he frowns back. He's angry. Whatever. It's his fault for not listening. I glance back at Korra's face through the rearview. Her smile is gone. So is her gaze. Her eyes are locked now on the ocean as we glide over it aiming for the island a black lump on the horizon, outlined by the setting sun.

Tick.


	4. 10:05 PM

10:05 PM

There's a huge bonfire already burning on the beach. We can see it clearly as I negotiate the sharp turn of the gravel drive that leads up to the mansion Tahno rented for the weekend. Despite my best driving and open defiance of all posted speed limits, there are already five satomobiles parked in the drive. Looks like we're the last ones here.

"Wow!! Korra! Look at how big it is!" Bolin exclaims. "Can you believe it? How many bedrooms does it have?" 

"Eight, I think," she replies looking up at the house with wonder. She's clutching her sleeping bag and pillow in one hand, the paper bag filled with treats from the petrol station resting on her other hip.

I feel awkward in the face of their enthusiasm. The house where I grew up had 20.

"Well, well, well. The Firerat Pack finally shows up!" Tahno sneers down at us from the flight of steps that lead to the door, his arms crossed.

"Name-calling?" Mako drawls as he steps forward. I can hear the glass of the liquor bottles in his bag clank together as he does. "Cute, Tahno."

"Cute?" Tahno asks. "Not as cute as your ugly mug when we beat you at the finals ... "

I watch as Mako's frame tenses with anger. 

"And so it begins ... " I mumble softly to myself.

Korra steps closer to me and I look back at her. "Jeez. You can cut the sexual tension between those two with a knife, huh?"

I laugh and shake my head.

"Don't worry," she says. "If Mako goes into full man-beast mode come and find me. I squirreled away one of those caramel bars in my pack. We can hide out until the testosterone blows over."

I nod and am nearly bowled over as Bolin sprints past me to say hello to Opal when he spots her through the open door.

Tick.


	5. 11:23 PM

11:23 PM

Korra and I are sitting down by the bonfire together. Somewhere in the mansion's massive kitchen, she found one long meat roasting fork and she's educating me in the ancient Water Tribe art of making the perfect smore. The sand is cool beneath my naked legs. I wore a short skirt tonight and I regret it. I tuck my calves beneath me and settle for kneeling in the sand while Korra demonstrates.

"So this is the Tonraq method of smores making. We'll do it with the traditional ingredients first. My Dad's a purist."

She's smiling again at me and I'm relieved. Mako is gone for the moment. He went back to the house to grab us some more drinks. He's been OK so far after my earlier censure about PDAs, but he did drag me aside into one of the rooms earlier for a quick make-out session. I know he's eager for another one. I told him smores come first.

"OK. So I stick the marshmallow on the pointy thing," I say, holding the skewer with the marshmallow on it. "That part is obvious. What next?"

"Well, now you've got to roast it," she smiles, pushing her dark bobbed hair back behind her ear.

Nodding, I grasp the skewer and do what seems logical to me, shoving the marshmallow straight into the flame.

"Whoa, whoa! Eager bearbeaver!" Korra cries, grabbing me by the wrist and yanking my hand back.

"You're going to burn it!" she laughs, the reflection of the fire dancing playfully in her eyes. "You've got to use some finesse, Princess."

I roll my eyes at her pet name for me. I'm grateful for the privilege that I've got but I hate being reminded of it. Somehow it's OK when Korra does it, probably because she's always smiling when she says it. All the same. I don't like the distance that money makes between me and her, Mako, Bolin -- everyone I know really. Except for Tahno, fellow trust fund baby that he is. But the money isn't all bad. Korra is able to come to Republic U thanks to a bending scholarship from the Sato Foundation. If it weren't for Dad's money, we probably never would have met.

"Show me how to do it right then," I challenge her.

Korra grabs my hand and I notice it's hot and damp and rough against my skin, strong from years of martial arts training. I swallow hard as she kneels behind me so she can better direct my movements. The heat of the fire is making me flush and sweat pricks my temples and down the small of my back. I'm seized by a powerful urge to strip off my jacket and relieve myself of this sudden heat. But I don't want to interrupt her demonstration as she leans gently into my shoulders, her breasts brushing softly against me. I lick my lips and stop myself from giving into the impulse to lean back into her frame. My heart is beating fast. God, what is up with me tonight? I shrug it off and blame it on the half bottle of white wine I already drank and the heat of the fire.

"The trick," she explains, her breath stirring the small hairs on my neck. "Is to position the marshmallow at the right point outside of the flame to let it heat through before it burns. You need to twist it like this, back and forth," she continues, cupping my wrist and rotating it gently back and forth, back and forth in little half circles. "This way the whole thing heats evenly. If you don't do that you're going to leave half the marshmallow on the stick when you pull it out on the graham cracker."

She lets her hand drop but she's still sitting right behind me.

"Watch it closely," she breaths in my ear again.

When she says that I blink, refocusing on the task I'm doing instead of the feeling of her body with a will.

"You see how it's puffing up, getting bigger?" she asks. I nod. As I watch closely I can see how it's swelling in the heat. "That means it's getting hotter inside. You want the puff to be even on all sides. That means you're doing it right."

"I didn't know making smores was so complicated." I say, turning towards her I shiver when I see how close her face is to mine. But her glacier-blue gaze is fixed on the object in front of us and she doesn't notice my discomfiture.

"It is if you want to do it right," she says, eyes fixed on the fire. It's that confident voice of hers again, her Mr. Macho tone. Why is it so much more appealing when I hear it from her?

"OK, that's it!" She reaches out suddenly and grabs my wrist, pushing me and it forward. The marshmallow slips into the fire. I inhale sharply as the gestures pull her chest flush with my back. She soft and firm at the same time, and she smells like cedar and the sticky blackberry brandy she's been drinking and it fills my nose and mouth. My eyes widen as I watch the marshmallow at the end of my stick begin to burn. 

"Isn't that bad?" I cry.

"No, it's my special finishing move. It caramelizes the sugar on the outside." Korra chuckles and then pulls my arm back until the flaming thing is out of the fire and only a foot away from my face. Alarmed, I squirm, falling back into her chest. Is she trying to set me on fire now?

"Blow, silly." She says softly in my ear and I nod, unfrozen by her command.

Swallowing thickly, I purse my lips together obediently and follow her order. The fire in front of me flares out leaving a puffy, browned, and blackened nub at the end of the stick.

"Perfect," she hums and she takes the skewer from my unresisting hand. She moves to the side of me and traps the swollen browned blob between the chocolate and graham crackers, quickly pulling out the skewer in a fluid motion.

She moves to my side and presents the finished smore to me with a grin and I accept it, feeling suddenly bashful for a reason I can't identify.

"Thanks," I mumble. And I notice that there's a sticky white mass clinging to the tines of the skewer. "Oh no. Looks like I messed it up after all. There's some left on the stick."

Korra smiles up at me through her lashes and grabs at the sticky wad with her forefinger and thumb, pulling it from the skewer. I watch, breath arrested as her fingers disappear into her mouth. She drags her slick digits out again and I exhale. 

"Don't worry, Princess." She locks eyes with me as she chews, the fire is dancing in them still. "I won't waste it."

Tick.


	6. 11:56 PM

11:56 PM

It's nearly midnight and I am drunk. Real drunk, but not sick-drunk yet. Fortunately. Everyone sitting around the fire seems to be in the same situation too, and they're all talking at one another at high volume. From where I sit I catch a glimpse of Opal and Bolin talking animatedly together through the shifting flames of the fire. They're stupid cute. I hope it works out for them. I snuggle more deeply into Mako's shoulder. He came back after Korra's smores demo with a blanket and a six pack of beer from the house. Together we're leaning against a gnarled, sun-bleached tree trunk that was arranged close to the firepit by some thoughtful person long ago.

I can't help but notice how he smells different from Korra. He smells like sweat and the new pricey cologne he started wearing when we began to date. He doesn't need to impress me with it. I want to say that to him out loud but don't want to embarrass him either. I place a soft kiss on his collar bone instead. Perhaps taking my move as an invitation, Mako's hand sweeps up beneath the blanket and he cups my breast, squeezing it. Shocked at his bold move while we sit among our friends my lips gape and he uses the aperture of my surprise to lean over and cover my mouth with his, thrusting his tongue without preamble into my mouth. He's been sucking on IPAs all night and he tastes like it. His tongue is bitter and cold, a foreign object in my mouth. Instinctively I lean away from the intrusion but he grasps the back of my head, holding me to him. Annoyed at his hungry thrusting I shake my head against his kiss and he releases me. My head hits the wood of the tree behind us with a soft thud and I glare at him. His accusing black eyes bore right back into me.

"Korra ... " I gasp. My eyes trawl the ring of faces around the fire for hers. Did she see us?

"God, what is it with you and Korra?" he snaps, jaw tense. "Why do you care so much if she sees us?" He shifts away from me beneath the blanket and slouches against the tree trunk, arms crossed.

My eyes narrow. Why is he so fucking thick after all this time? "Mako!" I hiss. "She's in love with you. Have you forgotten? And she's our friend."

"Yeah, well. I love you." He shoots back. "And I wanna touch you. Does that matter? Korra is an adult. We've been dating for two months now. She needs to get over it."

Frowning, I lean away from him. My eyes complete the circuit of the faces around the fire again. Korra is gone. Hopefully, she wasn't scared off by our cuddling. I sigh. "Mako, you can be a real dick sometimes."

Mako's face twists and his mouth opens to reply. Whatever he's about to say to me is interrupted by the pale white face and hunched body that appears at the edge of the fire.

"I thought I smelled Earth Bender scum. Funny Tahno didn't warn me you'd be here."

"Desna?" It's Bolin's voice that asks the question, although the truth is plain to see.

Bolin shoots up from his seat on the ground, his chest puffing up at the sudden sight of his ex-fiance's brother's. I feel the blanket shift as Mako stands up too, ready to defend his own brother from the new interloper.

"Shouldn't you be wearing black lipstick and slumming around the North Pole with your weird goth sister?" Mako asks as he stands, hands balled into fists.

"Hey -- don't call Eske weird ... " Bolin replies.

"Oh, so you're defending her, now? After dumping my sister like trash at the altar. That's rich!" Desna takes a step forward towards Bolin, and Mako rounds the fire to back him up.

I stand up too, my hands shaking. I'm not sure what to do. I never know what to do in these kinds of situations. Where the hell is Korra? She always knows how to defuse fights.

"Hey guys -- maybe you should just settle down." I say.

The heads of all three men swivel to look at me.

"Stay out of this one, Princess," Mako replies. "I'm sick of this piece of shit picking on my brother."

The plosive of the word Princess echos in my ear like a shot and I feel my face flush in anger. Maybe he meant it as an endearment, but it sounds mocking when he says it. Stay out of it. Fine. I turn away from the three idiots squaring to fight and begin hiking through the sand up towards the house. If Mako wants to have the spat he's been itching for all night he can have it. Maybe he'll be less obnoxious after blowing off some steam.

I stumble through the sand and up the stairs. I reach the door to the great room and enter, tripping forward into the room as I do. I clutch at a big black piece of furniture set against the wall to my right and realize that it's a clock, a great big black wooden clock. I slammed into it so hard I'm surprised it didn't tip over but it stands firm, rooted like a tree. It feels like it's alive but I know that's crazy. I can feel it humming beneath my fingers as the walls seem to reel around me. I screw my eyes shut. God, how did I get so wasted without even noticing?

I feel it before I hear it. A vibration peels out from the clock as it begins to chime in a rich verberant tone. One, it tolls. It must be midnight. The hum of the old machine against my hands becomes hot -- impossibly hot and a light flares behind my eyes as I list forward against the cabinet, clutching at it to keep myself upright. Two. The banging of the second chime echoes through my skull, ringing through my clenched teeth, and my knees loosen as I sag to the floor. Three. A deep illogical animal need to get away from it fills me and a distant part of my brain wonders at the senseless terror boiling up my spine as I struggle to get my feet beneath me again.

Four. The surface of the clock is burning beneath my hands. I peel my digits forcefully from it and I swear it takes a layer of my skin off as I stumble away from the clock and the sucking pull that surrounds it. Five. The slow, low chiming continues. Follows me as loudly and surely as if I were still adhered to clock's case as I drag my feet towards the hall that leads towards the kitchen. Six. I just need some water. A cold sobering glass of water. If I can have a drink I'll feel better. Seven.

I stalk through the hall and my legs are stilts, thick wooden appendages I cannot control. I lean against a door to catch my breath. Eight. The door isn't latched. My weight dislodges it and it groans inward as I fall into the room. Nine. I've fallen to my knees. I look up and around and I'm filled with an intense nostalgia that at first I can't place. Ten. There's a desk in the room. It's an office. There's a roaring fire next to the desk. I blink and shudder, standing clumsily like a foal and falling back into the wall behind me as I realize someone's sitting at the desk. Eleven.

"Tell me what happened, Asami." Twelve. A sucking silence waits at the end of that last chime and I can feel myself fall forward, into it. Disbelieving what I'm seeing before me.

My heart seizes and I stare numbly as the shadow sitting at the desk resolves into a figure I know too well. My father's figure. But his mustache and beard are shorter, darker. There's no hint of white in them like there is now.

A high, soft voice responds. A child's voice. "I ... I crashed my bike. Again. The wheels all smashed up."

There, in front of the desk the figure of a girl, maybe 10 resolves into to focus. I know it's me. How is it me? How am I standing here right now -- in my own memory? Maybe I fell when I stumbled into the house and hit my head on that damn clock. I shudder thinking of that prospect. That I could still be on the floor in the great room, the blank face of that black thing towering over me. If I'm there I cannot know, stuck now as I am with the figures of my past and I am terrified, terrified that my father will look up from the desk and notice me -- the real me, adult me. But he doesn't. In fact, he barely looks at the girl in front of him, with her scraped up arm and bleeding knees.

He sighs and leans back in his chair, tenting his fingers in front of him as he stares at a spot on his desk instead of the little girl. "What would your Mother say, Asami?" he asks as he rubs the bridge of his nose.

I can feel my stomach touch my toes, just as it did then. The girl in front of him stays mute, begins to cry. But I find my voice welling up in her silence, "How about you -- Dad?" I say angrily. "What do you say? Last time I checked you're the one that's still alive!" I am furious. Furious on behalf of the skinny, lonely girl standing in front of him who chased thrills and pushed herself faster and faster -- to the point of breaking, always hoping her father would just look up from his fucking desk.

The moment is punctured by the sound of the door being forced open with a bang. It's Ming and Shaozu. The two men are tearing at each other's clothes as they embrace. They do not even notice me. I blink in surprise and stare at them as they step right through my memory -- my 10-year-old self dissolving as the frantically kissing couple bowl right through her. Ming pauses for only a moment to sweep off the contents of the desk and Dad disappears too like smoke. Ming sits on the surface of the desk and pulls Shaozu into him, continuing their frantic caress.

Numb from the live-action memory I just experienced and shocked to see the two teammates who'd always projected painfully hetero vibes making out I slip through the door and into the hallway again, clutching at my head. I make it to the kitchen. It's empty except for Tahno who is sitting at the table glassy-eyed eating Halloween candy straight from a bowl, discarded wrappers around him like a halo. Tahno is known for the strict diet he keeps and I can't help but wonder how many shots it took to get him to "pig out" drunk. It must have been a lot because as I walk past him he doesn't even notice me. God, shit is getting weird. And it doesn't seem to be just me who's affected.

I turn on the tap and splash cold water in my face. Outside I can see the bonfire burning. Mako and Desna are still circling each other. It looks like they're yelling. Korra. I came inside to find Korra. She can get them to stop. Or what was it? She said I could find her earlier if the testosterone got too much. It had. Everything had, in fact. I slam down an entire glass of water in one long drag and then wipe the moisture from my lips with the back of my hand.

Spinning on my heel I shake my head at Tahno's still completely oblivious figure as I stalk back out of the kitchen and down the hall. The bedrooms are off the far end of the great hall and it means walking past that clock. I stare at it the entire length of the room. Turning as I pass it so I can continue to watch it like a crazy person so I don't have to take my eyes from it. It's fucking ridiculous but it feels right. Like survival. Like it's going to ponce on me if I don't. As I watch it, I know -- know to my toes that it's watching me back. I feel my way into the entrance to the hallway that has the sleeping rooms running off of it.

"Korra?" I yell. There's no response so I slip quickly down the hall to the room that we snagged earlier as ours, opening and closing the door behind myself. I sigh, feeling irrational like I'd finally escaped the clock's sight. It's pitch black within the room and I grasp for the light switch. Before I can find it there's a womph sound like a gas fire lighting. Confused, I look to the left and see it -- the fire from my father's study.

"No." My dry voice rasps.

I look up and Dad is there again, sitting at his desk, but he's reading his paper this time, and it conceals his face completely. My 10-year-old self is nowhere to be seen, but the wide king-sized bed to the right side of the room is occupied -- by me I realize. Me and ... Mako? We're making out -- Mako has his hand up my shirt and my eyes are shut fast. My father hasn't apparently noticed. He keeps serenely turning the pages of his paper. Unable to look away I fumble for the doorknob behind me with a shaking hand only to find that the nob is gone. I'm trapped and my eyes begin to water again, despair filling them and me. 

The pounding that filled my head before returns and I lean against the wall beside the door, watching the bed mutely as my own moans begin to fill the room. Dad continues flipping the pages of his paper. If it weren't so fucking terrifying it would all be funny. Why the hell is this happening to me? My cries fill the room and I sound happy -- but it's weird watching myself this way. I notice something that escaped me before. I never open my eyes, not once while Mako touches me. Fuck this. I've had enough of this. I will find a way out of this nightmare even if it means crawling over my own body and smashing a window. I push off from the wall. I'm stuck. Adhered to the wallpaper. It's the same sensation of being stuck to the clock that I had before. Fuck.

This time, it's me, the real me that moans as I lean forward struggling against the adhesion of the wall, my eyes are watering again, this time in pain as my hair gets stuck on the flypaper of the wall. The harder I pull, the deeper the wall sucks me in. I struggle for what seems like an age before I finally let my body sag, exhausted. Giving up, I settle into the wall's clinging embrace, closing my eyes against the scene before me. But I can't close my ears. And the sounds of my own disembodied pleasure and the crinkle of Dad's newspaper fill them as tears seep out of my closed eyes and run down my cheeks.

Tick.


	7. 12:48 AM

12:48 AM

The door slams open again and I start awake. My eyes scan the room wildly. Dad and his desk are gone. Thank god. But Mako and I are still on the bed, tangled up in the sheets, his hips bucking against mine. I am frozen. I'm made of stone. I can barely move my head to see who's entered the room this time. Warm relief blooms like a sunspot in my chest when I see the solid form of Korra as she steps forward past me. I try to say something to her to get her attention but a raspy, "Aaah," so soft I can barely hear it myself is the only sound it seems I can make. The tears start again. I'm trapped. Am I dead? Is this how feels to be dead? Am I a ghost? Is the woman on the bed the real me? I don't fucking know anymore -- all I can do is seize onto the sight of Korra's very real body and hope desperately. 

See me -- I telegraph to her. Please see me. I beg. But she doesn't. Her eyes are arrested by what's happening on the bed. Instead of apologizing and backing out like you'd expect someone too in this situation Korra stamps forward and I am grateful. Maybe she'll make it stop.

"You two again?" she yells. "I have fucking had it!"

She takes a wind bending stance and blasts the bed against the far wall, the metal bed frame groaning and scraping as it slides against the wood floor. The pillows fly off and the figures making out dissolve, just like the ones that Shaozu and Ming walked through before. I'm the real me. Oh, thank god. I'm real. Not the other one. Please Korra, look at me. The tears slide hot down my cheeks. Don't leave before you see me, I sob in my mind. Korra stares at the empty bed for a moment. Her shoulders heaving as she pants. She was obviously affected by the illusion. And how could she not be? Seeing the vision of the man she loves making love to someone else -- making love to me.

Korra turns, and I'm relieved when she spins in the direction that makes it impossible for her not to notice where I am strung up, stuck on the wall like an insect trapped in sap next to the door. I'm terrified that I'm invisible for a split second until I see those mad husky eyes of her widen. But then her brows lower and she frowns. God, does she think I'm another illusion? "Aaaaaah," I moan lowly, stuck still. Frozen, still.

"You're fucking everywhere aren't you?" Her jaw clenches and she smiles a sadly as she steps in front of me. "You're crawling out of the goddamn walls now." 

Her fist clenches and I watch as she winds up to punch me. Fuck. I'm real! I scream inside. Korra I'm real! She's strong enough to kill me if she really lets go. My eyelids shut fast at the sight of her grim face and her fist coming towards me. It slams into the wall. Inches away from my left ear and the smell of drywall dust fills my nose and mouth, making me want to cough. Korra stands there for a long moment, her fist still in the wall and she's close enough that I can feel the heat of her body. It burns at first, but then it feels good. Like it's melting something in me.

"I can't get you out of my head, Princess. You're everywhere. Are you going to disappear like the others when I touch you?"

She looks into my face, her blue eyes intense and mournful and I can feel her breath fanning over my face, hot and sweet. What does she mean? Has she been seeing me and Mako all over the house? Is that the torture the clock made for her tonight? I try to blink slowly. Try to intimate with my eyelids that I'm real. The fist beside my head resolves into a flat hand, and she lays her other palm beside my other ear, caging me. She licks her lips as she stares at my face.

"I've been pushing away from this feeling for months now, Asami. It's why I went to Zaofu this summer. You don't know it but that's true, that's why I went. I wanted to get away, to clear my head. It didn't work. I've been doing the same thing since midnight and everything in this house went nuts. I keep pushing you and him away. Maybe ... maybe I need to do something different ... " Her scorching palm, its rough surface familiar from the fire earlier cups my cheek and I utter a low moan. Free me. Please free me.

She continues her soliloquy ... "Maybe I need to lean into this. Lean into you," she says, and I inhale quickly as she does just that, forcing her body flush with mine. "Maybe I need to burn you out like a fever, Asami. Maybe then you'll leave me alone."

There's a frantic moment when I take her words literally, afraid that she means to actually set me on fire with her bending skills. But instead of igniting me she thrusts her body into me more firmly and begins to kiss my lips. Shocked, my eyes fly wide. Why? Is all I can think before I feel her hands cup my face gently and she's kissing me more insistently. Softly at first and then harder. I'm too shocked to notice initially, too distracted by the surface of her lips, wet and firm against mine but I'm thawing as she kisses me. I can move more and I'm filled with such delight and gratitude that I find myself kissing her back. 

The more deeply I kiss her the more I'm rewarded by the release of the wall and the pressure of her lips as it increases. My hands are free and they clutch at her sides greedily before I hook them around her neck and she pulls me forward, finally peeling me from my prison completely. We break for air but her arms are still holding me tightly against her and melt into her, sagging into the comfort of her frame.

"Korra ... " I croak. "Thank god. Thank god." I repeat stupidly as I cling to her like someone lost at sea. I'm so relieved that I can't even feel confusion or shock over her kisses -- only thankfulness.

"You're still here," she says, the arms snaked around me squeeze me tighter.

"Korra, you're hurting me," I wheeze.

"You're supposed to disappear," she says, ignoring me, or perhaps she doesn't hear me at all.

"Korra -- I'm real," I reply, running me hand in a gentle circuit over her back as I feel my bones creek in her grip.

"Shhhh, baby," she says, leaning to nuzzle my skin just before my ear with her nose. "I'm thinking ... be quiet for me. Maybe it's not enough. Maybe I need to do more," she continues in a monotone to herself. "Maybe I really have to fuck you this time. Maybe then I can finally get some relief."

"Korra?" My question is a shrill cry. But she's ignoring me again. I try to brace my hands against her chest to push myself away from her but she's too strong and she won't look me in the eye. I hear a groaning sound behind me and jump when the side of the bed slams into the back of my knees, reflexively they bend and Korra leans me beneath her onto it. I finally catch her eyes and I ask, "Korra, what the hell are you doing? It's me. I don't understand."

Instead of replying she smirks and shakes her head, her arms clutching at my forearms as she drags me further up the mattress.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I repeat, finally trying to fight her. I don't want to hurt her but what she's doing doesn't make any sense. She's not in her right mind. It's the house. It's made us all crazy.

"You're not going to disappear this time, Asami. This is happening -- " It's her Mr. Macho voice but this time I shiver when I hear it and something beneath my navel clenches, hard.

She's on top of me now. Her body's about the same size as mine but it's almost all muscle and after years of martial training she knows how to use it. It's laughably easy for her to pin me down, her hands clutching my thin struggling forearms and her knees biting into my legs just below the knees. Her eyes aren't empty as they look down at mine, they're intent, watchful, patient. She's waiting for me to tire myself out, to give in. When it seems apparently I won't I hear the sound of metal groaning again and the chilled feeling of metal encircling my wrists and ankles. The metal grips tightly into my skin and she uses it to splay my legs and arms out around me like a starfish. 

If I thought her body was strong I know her bending is stronger and I stop struggling, partly from the shock of it but mostly because I'm terrified. If she loses her control in an effort to keep me in place she could tear my arms right off my body -- like a kid plucking the legs off a spider. I know she'd never intend to do anything so cruel. But she's drunk on the house -- delusional like I was earlier. Now that my body is still and I'm strung out beneath her she releases her grip on my limbs and sits up -- the warmth of her core where she sits over my hips is scalding. Her jeans feel like they're filled with hot led against my poor crumpled, bunched-up skirt.

Now that I'm still, she grabs the collar of my shirt and rips it a part, tearing my shirt clean open. I'm too stunned to move as she yanks my bra down and moans as my breasts pop out of them. She leans down and begins to lav at my tits. I shudder as her hot mouth closes over my nipple and sucks, hard. She bites down on that tender nub and my eyes shut, sparks bursting in my mind and now I'm moaning too.

She stops, sitting up again, and turns her attention to my skirt and I begin to shake as I hear it tear too.

"Korra -- for the last time -- it's me. I'm real. You have to believe me."

She frowns down at me and looks me dead in the eye as she snaps the elastic of my underwear -- pulling them off of me before she balls them up in her fist and tosses them aside. 

"The other ones said that too. I know you're not. You can't be. The real you wouldn't have kissed me like you did when I found you stuck to the wall. Hell, the real you wouldn't have literally been growing out of the fucking wall ... the real you ... " I moan as she rubs her thumb over my naked clit, her fingertips running over the seam of my soaking cunt.

"The real you ... wouldn't be this wet," She smiles at me but it's rueful, full of regret.

"I thought you were angry," I say, desperate to crowd out the feeling and the jolt of pleasure that lances through me as she works her forefinger into me. I squirm against her hand, surprised to find I want more of that feeling. "Don't you hate me? Hate me because of Mako?"

"Hate you because of Mako?" Korra's alto timber is a warm bur and she leans down and locks her lips with mine briefly, still working my cunt with her hand. "I do hate you, Asami. But not for the reason you might think. I hate you and Mako. I hate you two together. I hate seeing how he doesn't understand you. How he doesn't notice the things about you that I know. You're welcome by the way, for those new driving gloves that he got you for winter holiday last year. He bought them but they were my idea. He didn't have a fucking clue."

"I hate you, Asami," she said and I moan again as she thrusts a second finger into me, continuing to rub circles around my clit with her thumb as her fingers hook inside of my channel, finding a spot in me previously unidentified that makes me writhe when she begins to thrust her fingers against it. "I hate you because I know why you're dating Mako. And it's not because you love him. It's because he's a bender. He's a bender and he's poor. That's why you're with him. You just want to piss off Daddy."

"That's not true," I say weakly. But even as I protest I remember the visions that haunted me earlier. Was that really it? Was I still trying, after all this time, to do something to make Dad look at me?

"You can't lie to me, Asami. I see right through you." She leans down and she's kissing me again and her probing fingers are replaced by the flat her palm rubbing hard circles against me. I can't resist, I thrust my hips desperately into her palm and she's laughing against my cheek. "You can't lie to me, Asami, because you are all I see. Every fucking day. Do you think it's an accident that I was in every single one of your classes Spring semester? It's sick. I'm a fucking stalker, Asami. I couldn't get enough of you. I can't now. And you're so -- oblivious. So fucking naive about it. Even here in my fucking dreams. What do I need to do to you to make you notice me?"

I groan at the loss of her heat as she gets on all fours and drags her leg forward, her muscular thigh against my cunt, giving me a hard surface to grind into. She looks down at me from the cage of her arms and smiles tenderly, pinning my shoulders down to the mattress as I shamelessly hump her leg.

"Doesn't this feel good?" She groans. "This could be us, Asami. Maybe you can never care for me, never want me the way I want you. But can you imagine how mad Papa Sato would be if he knew we were together each night, doing this? If he knew you had my poor-as-shit, bending scholarship, big dyke dick in your mouth every night? If you want to piss off Daddy, why can't you do it with me? I could make it so good, so much better than he can."

And with that Korra leans down and begins to feast on my neck as I continued to grind against her leg. It's frustrating. I am so close but I need more. "It's too bad you don't have that big dick after all. I want you to fuck me with it, Korra. God, I do."

Her head shoots up and her glacial blue gaze bores into me as if trying to decide if I'm serious. She grins, slowly. "Well, baby," she drawls. "You're in luck."

"What do you mean?" I slur, the alcohol has burned away but I'm drunk on her touch.

"This is my dream, remember?" She coos as she leans back and begins to undo the button of her jeans. Slowly she unzips the fly and I see it there, straining against her stomach -- the thin red cloth of her cotton underwear hides nothing. She pulls down her jeans and the underwear, and her erection bobs as it's freed. 

"Oh god, Korra, " I moan as I gaze at it and her. My cunt clenches and can feel it weep as I bite my lip.

She smiles warmly and strokes her hard length as she takes in my hungry expression.

"God you're beautiful, Asami," she says as she leans down and captures my mouth again. The head of her dick pushes against the mouth of my cavity and I freeze up. I bite her lip to get her to stop. Surprised, she pauses, looking down into my face.

"Ca ... condom ... " I mutter.

"Asami," she laughs. "This is a dream, my dream remember?" She croons as she strokes my cheek. "You'll take it like this, raw. And you'll be fine. Trust me," she leans down and kisses me as she rocks forward penetrating me a bare inch before stopping again. I whimper in frustration against her mouth, wishing the restraints were gone so I could close the gap.

"You remember what I said about the marshmallow, Asami?" She asks, her hot breath ghosting my lips. "I'm going to heat you up. And when the moment's right. I'm going to set you on fire. When I'm done, there won't be anything left, baby. I'll do it right. I'm not going to waste a thing."

And with that she thrusts into me and I'm going to break. She doesn't give me any time to adjust to her size before she's fucking me relentlessly but I'm too wet and it doesn't take long for my body to relax. Her mouth is hot and insistent on mine as her hips buck against me. And she's right. God, it is good. There's an intimacy in the way she kisses my mouth, sweet and soft even as she pins me, fills me up, skewers me with her hardness. It's something unfamiliar and gratifying and I'm lost in it.

Her rhythm changes and her lips leave mine. Breathless and confused, I blink blearily, hypnotized by her tempo, I focus finally on those bright blue eyes. She smiles. This is my friend, I realize. And my heart clenches in my chest with a tenderness I didn't know I could feel. Didn't know I was missing. My friend. This is my friend and she's fucking me and I'm smiling. I can't stop smiling. It's too much. I close my eyes again, trying to concentrate on the feeling of her thrusts and the way my hips are meeting hers.

"Stop, look at me," she pleads. "I don't want you to think of him while you're fucking me."

My eyes snap open and focus back on her face and the hurt expression she wears there. I think of watching myself earlier in the bed with Mako. How my eyes were screwed shut so tight. How I never opened them. "I'm never thinking of him," I admit it as I realize it. The truth. "Never. Not even when he's inside of me."

She looks confused for a moment, and she stills inside of me before beginning again. She hooks her hand beneath my head directing my gaze at her as she picks up speed. "Baby girl ... that's just sad," she breaths. "Stay with me. Don't look away. I'll give you something to think about."

I nod mutely, and she does. God, she does. She fucks me tirelessly, her caresses relentless, until I feel my body break around her, her name on my lips as I scream. She's right. There's nothing left when she thrusts hard into me, her whole body shaking as I feel her impossibly hot release pulsing into me.

Tick.


	8. 5:12 AM

5:12 AM

The gray morning pre-light suffuses the bedroom with a dim glow. There's a body, warm and firm behind me on the bed, an arm hooked around me. I grin and moan remembering last night and I grind back into that frame, hungry for a repeat. The back that's behind me feels too solid, too wide and I realize I'm fully clothed when everything should be in tatters. The arm that snakes around me is hairy and grimace when it tightens like a vice.

"Mornin' ... " I hear Mako's gravelly bur in my ear.

"Mako?" I hiss, unable to stop the shock from seeping into my tone.

He pauses and his voice is muffled by my hair. "You expecting someone else?"

His hand traipses down the valley between my breasts and onto my cunt and he squeezes. I flinch and push his arm away.

"God, what gives Asami?" he demands as I sit up on the bed and look back at him.

"Nothing," I lie. "Look ... we need to talk later."

I scoot to the edge of the bed, seeing that Bolin is asleep on the floor under the comforter that had been on the bed the night before.

"Sure ... whatever," Mako replies from the bed.

I don't even stop to look back at him as I pick my way around Bolin's snoring body and through the door on my bare feet. The house looks so much different in the thin morning light. It looks -- cheery almost. Old but blissfully normal. I want to find Korra. Need to find her. An instinct pulls me towards the wide outer doors. Junior Scout that she is, there's no way that she would have spent the night outside if she had a choice. She's out on the beach. She must be.

I pass through the great hall, barely giving the black clock a glance as I rush past it, eager to find her. My heels slap down the wooden stairs and smile when I reach the beach. I look over past the remains of the bonfire and there about 20 yards out I see her -- her blue sleeping back and pillow huddled high above the tide line in the sand. I pick my way towards her through the cold sand. When I reach her she's still asleep. Her face looks so peaceful, so much different than the fierce one I saw last night, in what must have been a dream.

Instead of waking her right away I lay down in the soft cold sand in front of her and watch her for a moment. She moans softly and I can't resist the urge then to brush her dark hair gently from her cheek, hooking it behind her ear. Her eyes begin to move beneath her lids and she blinks them open slowly. She doesn't jerk away from my hand, doesn't seem surprised to see me and I smile over at her.

"Asami." She breathes and reaches her hand forward. It's hot from her sleeping back, almost as hot as I remember it last night and she cups my cheek.

Her brows draw together slightly and she whispers, "You're real."

"Yes, I'm real," I grin and I grab her hand and bring it to my lips, kissing her knuckles as I do. Those mad dog eyes of hers fly wide, and I shush her against her skin, squeezing her hand in mine so she can't pull it away. She stops struggling and we lay there for a moment staring at each other, eyes soft, until my teeth start chattering in the cool morning mist of the sea. Her hand leaves mine and hear the sound her sleeping bag unzipping. I look up at her and she's holding the edge of it open for me.

"Get in, loser," she commands.

I laugh, brushing the sand off of myself before I settle in. My back is against her chest and her arm circles around me, pulling me in tight to her heat. I sigh luxuriantly and close my eyes. God, this feels right.

"Asami?" Her question comes as her breath fans against my neck. "What are we doing?"

"Let's talk about it later," I say, my eyes shutting again. "For now I just want to sleep."

"Hmm ... " she hums her tired reply, winding herself closer to me and I feel my self slowly melt away, curled into the embrace of her body.

...

...

...

Tick.


End file.
